He showed her the house that had been his grandfather’s, the one where all the best memories happened. It wasn’t part of the resort, technically; it had been deeded over to a local family per his grandfather’s will, but they were practically his own family.
They drove all around the lake, seeing the park and the hotel, the older homes that had been there for ages, as well as some of the newer, more modern places. She was particularly interested in the ruins and asked if there was a good story to go along with them.
“If there is, I don’t know it,” he said with a laugh, catching her disappointed look. “But it didn’t stop us from pretending all sorts of things. My cousins, my sister, and I played for hours on those things. Never told the grown-ups. We can come back to that later, if you want. In the truck.”
“I’d like that,” she told him, smiling softly in a way that made him wish someone else was driving the boat. Then her attention was caught by something else, and she brightened. “Oh, the sun’s coming up! Turn the boat just a bit.”
He did as she asked and slowed the motor to still the water around them. There was hardly any wind today, so the surface of the lake was fairly still, but for the faint hint of a fog. The sky was perfectly clear, and if things stayed just as they were, she would get some amazing shots.
He’d looked up her work again last night, having forgotten what his publicity manager had shown him back when the contracts had been drawn up. And now that he knew her, he’d wanted to see her work, and he was beyond impressed. Tom, Jenna, and his team had assured him that Mal was a brilliant artist who could really help them out, and now he could see what all the fuss was about. Somehow, she took something simple and made it extraordinary.
What could she do with something already exquisite?
She pushed the blanket aside and started snapping, turning her body so she was more kneeling on the bench than anything else. She was completely silent, switching between cameras every now and then, and he could see they had different lenses, though what each was, he couldn’t tell. She leaned over the edge of the boat, and he twitched with the urge to go and hold her heels.
There was no sound but the clicking of her camera and the water softly hitting the side of the boat. Occasionally, a bird chirped here or there, or a fish would flip the surface of the water, but other than that, it was complete silence. And he loved it. He could have sat like this for ages, just watching her work, seeing the concentration on her face, her thought process almost written across her features. He wanted to be able to translate that, to know what she was going to do before she did it.
Just then, the sun peeked over the ridge, and she snapped pictures rapidly, again leaning near the surface of the water. This time, he did get up and carefully went over to keep her from toppling overboard.
“Thanks,” she said softly, not stopping anything.
He just squeezed her ankles in response.
After a moment, she turned. “Can we go over by that cove you showed me before?”
“Of course,” he said simply, willing to drive the boat to France if she asked. Actually, he liked that idea a lot—not driving this boat to France, but taking her there. That idea certainly had merit. He shook the thought away and revved the engines to take them where she asked. After that, they only went to one more spot before she said she was ready to head back in.
“Get everything you wanted?” he asked.
She beamed at him as she settled back in and put the blanket over her. “Nope.”
He raised a brow and turned to see her better. “No? Why not?”
She lay down on the bench and shrugged. “I never get everything I want. It’s not possible, because I want to catch it all. Like I said yesterday, every sunrise is different. Someday, maybe I’ll catch that magic moment I’m looking for, and maybe I did today. I won’t know till I get in and look at them.”
He watched her for a long moment, and she watched him. He bit the inside of his lip, then said, “But did you get enough?”
She smiled again. “Yeah. More than enough. Thanks, Hunter.”
The softness of her voice did something to his legs and his chest, and he inhaled sharply, forcing a smile in place. “Don’t thank me, Mal. I just really wanted to drive this boat.”
She smirked. “Uh-huh. Boys and their toys.”
He chuckled, then glanced back again. “Why are you nicer in the mornings?” he asked, genuinely curious.
“Am I?” she asked, coming up on an elbow.
He gave her a nod. “Yesterday, you were sweet as pie in the morning, then bit my head off in the afternoon.”
“Yesterday, you lied to me,” she pointed out with a quirked brow.
He opened his mouth to argue the point yet again when she overrode, “Okay, fine, you withheld certain information.”
He would give her that one.
“My point is,” he said with a satisfied smile, “you are nice again this morning. I’m just wondering if you are going to be mean to me later.”
She pursed her lips, and her eyes narrowed. “Are you withholding more information?”